


The Dance

by sassmaster_tiresias



Category: A Knight's Tale (2001)
Genre: Dancing, M/M, kate ships it, so does roland but he's more subtle about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:38:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4354598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassmaster_tiresias/pseuds/sassmaster_tiresias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate knows exactly what she's doing... and not just with the dancing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dance

When Kate snatches Chaucer’s staff from him and raises their joined hands, Will looks confused and Wat’s nose scrunches in derision. “Watch and learn, boys,” Kate sighs, and then she starts counting.

Chaucer may have slightly more grace and poise than his friends, but he still lags behind Kate. He tries to blame it on the fact that his face is still sort of throbbing and the blood drying on his upper lip is rather distracting. However, the ailments of his head have nothing to do with the failings of his feet, which are not cooperating at all.

“I thought you knew how this worked,” Kate snickers as she gracefully avoids Geoffrey stepping on her toes. “Step it up, Chaucer.” With that, she releases him and turns to Will.

Geoffrey leans against a stable rail and Wat comes to stand next to him. Will and Kate are engrossed in their dancing and Roland is muttering angrily at Will’s tunic. No one is paying them any attention.

Wat glances over at Chaucer and whispers, “You still bleeding?”

“Don’t think so.” Geoff pulls the wad of cloth from his nostril. It stings a bit, but no more blood spills.

With a nod, Wat pushes off from the railing and goes to check on Roland’s progress. Geoff grins after him.

Kate calls Wat over to dance with Will so she can watch and see what he’s doing wrong.

“Follow, Wat, follow!” Kate corrects. “Will’s got to learn to lead, so you’ve got to follow!”

“Like a girl!” Chaucer chimes in. Wat shoots him a glare.

They continue like that for a while: Will and Wat dancing as Kate instructs them. Bit by bit, they get it. Next thing Chaucer knows, Kate’s waving him over. “With me, Geoff,” she commands. “All that’s left is to successfully change partners.”

“And one, and two, three, and four,” Kate counts for them. Chaucer straightens his spine and links fingers with her. They circle each other slowly as Will and Wat do the same. Will is truly trying, but Wat’s frame is nonexistent. “Five, six, seven, change partners!”

Wat’s biting on his bottom lip when he turns to Geoff. Chaucer grins at him, then shifts his gaze to Kate and waggles his eyebrows. She giggles through the first four counts, rolling her eyes at them, then regains her composure. “And five, six, seven, follow me!” she chants.

As the four of them prance down the stable, Chaucer keeps trying to catch Wat’s eye. Wat is determinedly looking anywhere but at Geoff, even when the dance dictates that they face each other. 

_Perhaps I went a bit too far_ , Geoff thinks, his chest tightening. Suddenly, he regrets that last, “like a girl,” comment. And maybe the first two as well.

The next time they turn their heads to each other, Geoff squeezes Wat’s hand. Wat’s eyes snap to attention, meeting Geoff’s, and at last Wat smiles. Wat flushes from his neck to his ears and Geoff has to hold back a chuckle.

They complete their dance at the same moment as Roland cries “Finished!” and holds the tunic up for all to see. Will rushes over and takes it in his hands.

“It’s perfect!” he declares.

Kate runs the sleeve between her fingers. “It’ll do,” she concedes. “Now come along, let’s see what can be done about you hair.”

The two of them leave with the tunic and Roland begins to pack up his sewing kit. He glances up at Chaucer and Wat and smirks. “Was the dancing too much for you, Wat?” he asks. “You’re a bit red in the face.”

Wat glowers and begins to stutter out some sort of threat, but gives up when he sees both Geoff and Roland grinning at him. Instead, he grumbles, “I’m going to see to the horse,” and stomps off.

Roland scoffs, tucks his kit under his arm, and offers Geofff a smile as he leaves. Once Roland is gone, Geoff swaggers over to Wat and hops up on the rail in front of Will’s horse.

“Your dancing,” Geoff says, “is positively atrocious.”

“Shut it,” Wat mutters, but he glances up all the same. “You weren’t much better.”

“No, but at least my heart was in it.”

Wat doesn’t respond to that. He only strokes the horse’s nose. Geoff turns sideways and props his leg up along the length of the rail, slipping it in front of Wat’s chest. It’s a precarious position, but at least it might draw Wat’s attention back to him.

It does. Turning to face Geoff, Wat glances quickly around the stable to make sure they’re completely alone. He steps forward and lays his hand on Geoff’s cheek. Wat just barely brushes his thumb against Geoff’s nose.

“Doesn’t still hurt, does it?” Gently, Wat tilts Geoff’s head down towards him.

Geoff runs his own hand through Wat’s hair, grinning. “Nah, not really. And I deserved it, besides.”

There’s no disagreement from Wat, just another quick look around before he darts in and kisses Geoff hastily. Wat tries to draw back to a respectful distance afterwards, dropping his hand from Geoff’s face. 

Geoff has other ideas, though. He moves his hand into Wat’s hair once more to keep him close.

“The revelry is beginning at this very moment, dear Master Fowlehurst,” Geoff whispers. He’s slipped into his poet voice, Wat notices. “As the knights go off to their banquet, the squires and heralds will take to their own parties in the streets. Music shall ring forth from every tavern. Trust me, my love, no one will spare a second thought for the horses until morning.”

As he swoops in, Geoff slides his hand down to Wat’s shoulder to keep himself from toppling off of the railing. Luckily, Wat’s hands go automatically to Geoff’s hips, keeping Geoff in place. Speaking almost directly into Wat’s desperately gaping mouth, Geoff purrs, “I believe us to be safe.”

While Geoff may be a good head taller than Wat, Wat’s quite a bit stronger. Wat grabs Geoff’s leg that’s still resting along the railing and wraps it around his own hip. Geoff needs no more encouragement, slinging the other leg up as well and locking his ankles behind Wat’s back. Almost effortlessly, Wat lifts him up and moves them into an empty stall.

Once he’s set Geoff back on his feet, Wat shoves Geoff’s coat off his shoulders and takes advantage of his wide collared shirt. “Glorious Apollo, you have descended from Olympus on high,” Geoff moans. His bitten down nails press into the back of Wat’s neck. “That can be the only explanation for having a god such as you here before me.”

Wat growls against Geoff’s heaving chest, “Blasphemer,” and kisses the flesh over his heart before moving up to his lips again. Their noses bump and Geoff hisses despite himself. “And a liar as well,” Wat adds, trying to sound put out even as he looks up with concern in his eyes.

“Pay it no mind.” Geoff’s lips quirk up as he gently brushes them over Wat’s eyes. “Surely your miraculous fingers will heal it for me.”

The grin that spreads itself across Wat’s face Geoffrey can only think to describe as feral. “‘Miraculous fingers,’ huh?”

xXx

Some time later, they slink back to their encampment in the shadows. The secretive brushing of fingertips lasts until the very moment they step into the ring of light cast by the campfire. At the last second, Wat sidesteps to put some distance between them.

Only Kate is around to welcome them back, anyway, Roland having already retired. Wat grunts good night to her as he makes his way to the tent. She keeps her head bowed to hide her smile, but returns the sentiment.

Geoff sinks to the ground beside the log Kate sits on. He leans back on his elbows and looks up at her. Kate’s eyebrows are already raised in question.

“Would you like to say something, my Lady Kate?” Geoff asks, fighting to keep the laughter out of his voice.

Kate fails to do so herself, a snicker escaping. “You two have fun, did you?”

“Indeed.” Geoff nods sagely and turns back to the fire. “Did some more dancing. A style that Wat’s much better at, mind you.”

Laughter bubbling over completely, Kate stands. “Lord Almighty! No more detail, please, Chaucer!”

“Have I offended the lady?” chuckles Geoff. “I do apologize.”

She cuffs him lightly round the back of his head, then offers him a hand up. He declines and she shrugs. “Goodnight, Geoff.”

“ _Bonne nuit_ , Kate.”

Sitting alone by the fire, Geoff stares into the flames. The sparks leap into the night, adding a few more stars to the sky. Perhaps Geoff will wait for Will to return so he needn’t wake them all to talk about his night. In a matter of hours, the blazing chariot of the sun will appear and make its way across the sky.

Apollo, however, will remain here at Geoff’s side.


End file.
